The River
by firewings86
Summary: Tamsin gets her memories back and Bo is the only one home to see her through it. Short, will probably continue later. T for future content. Slight references to my first valkubus fic but nothing too important. Eventual valkubus.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: It's 3 A.M. :P Apologies for any little mistakes/typos/suckage I didn't happen to catch!**

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Tamsin is floating somehow. It's all the lightness of an out-of-body experience, the surrealism of watching herself navigate the hours from above, but she hasn't left her body. The sensation radiates from within the confines of her own mind; she is sure of it. Still, she is sick, or something is wrong. Random waves of nausea grip her and won't let go. It started happening when she killed that girl, that other dark fae, Bruce's master or whoever she used to be—used to be, because now she's gone. She's gone and it's all Tamsin's fault. She never meant for it to…

"Kenzi!" She is breathless and doubled over. "I think I'm going to throw up."

It's been getting worse, the lightheadedness intensifying and her stomach turning more frequently all the time. Every day she's tried to hide it, tried to push it all out of her mind, but it just keeps coming back.

And then… hurried footsteps on the stairs. "Tamsin, what's wrong?" Not Kenzi's voice. Bo's. Tamsin shrinks back into herself. Even though she knows now that Bo doesn't _hate_ her, she still doesn't know how to talk to her. She's borderline afraid of her, if she's being totally honest with herself. She doesn't know why, but she has all of these strange feelings of guilt whenever she's around Bo. Guilt and… something else, something primal. Something that almost feels close to animosity, or jealousy? She can't tell. She just knows it bothers her.

"Where's Kenzi?" she manages to slur. It's getting harder and harder to stand. She slumps against her cot in Kenzi's room, looks around at the rapidly-blurring wooden walls.

"She went to see Hale. Are you all right?" Bo's brow furrows and Tamsin almost smiles. Her eyes are so soft and brown, and there's genuine concern in them. That's nice. She doesn't remember much concern for her well-being from other people in her past life.

"Yeah," she says, "I'll be fi—" And then her ankle rolls underneath her and she slips, hits her back on the metal bed frame and lands on the floor in a twisted heap. "_Ow_!"

"Okay, buddy, come on; you need to lie down." Bo starts toward her, reaches out to help her up. Tamsin recoils on instinct.

"No! Don't touch me!" She can feel her eyes getting dark. _Not now, not now_…

"Tamsin," Bo says, her voice firm, "let me help you."

"No, don't—"

But Bo grabs her arm. They hit her all at once, full force, like a river exploding from behind a dam. They flood into her mind and overwhelm her senses and rush through her veins and claim her and she screams and screams. Her memories, her memories—all of her memories are there and she can scarcely rescue herself from drowning in them.

Somewhere—somewhere distant—Bo is yelling and shaking her and trying to snap her out of it. She sees it all: the vial, the blade she held up to Bo's neck, kissing her in the woods, sabotaging her bath, her confliction, her betrayal, the soap suds in the floor of her truck, the shattering of glass and beer running down the alley wall. All of her old memories are in her new body, her young, innocent body—but no; she's old? Ancient, even? She doesn't feel old. She feels sick. Killing all of those people, those fae. _I almost killed Bo. Dyson was right. I tried to kill Bo_.

She's crying and she's scared.

"I'm so sorry," she says, rocking back and forth, "I'm so sorry."

"For what? Tamsin, for what? Come on, talk to me, you have to tell me what's going on." Closer now, she feels Bo's hand gripping her arm, her fingers running through her hair. "Calm down, Lil' T. It's okay. It's all okay."

Little T? Oh, right. That's her now. No, that was her before, and old Tamsin is "now"… oh, it's too confusing. She collapses into Bo without meaning to and starts coming back into herself.

"I'm sorry," she says again.

"No, no, you don't have anything to be sorry for, sweetie!" Bo's voice is almost _motherly_. Tamsin would be insulted if she were more coherent.

"For everything, for the compound"—a shudder wracks her body, and she sucks in a deep breath—"and the vial, a-and—" Tamsin braces herself against a whole new wave of sobs, and wins out temporarily. _Come on, Tamsin, get it together. Valkyries don't cry_.

Bo's arms fall, and she frowns.

"I didn't want to," Tamsin says. "I swear, I didn't want to. Maybe at first but then—" She sits back, shaking. Bo stares at her, searches her face with that same confused frown, her arms crossed now.

"Tamsin," she says, a flat new recognition in her voice.

Tamsin nods. She stares away. She can't stand to look Bo in the face. She doesn't know if she'll ever be able to look her in the face again after this.

"When did you—?"

"Just now," Tamsin says, a pleading note in her interjection. Perhaps some of her new self has rubbed off on her after all.

"Look," Bo says with a sigh, "you helped me a lot. My mom, too. I forgave you a long time ago, okay?"

"I just… never got to say sorry." Tamsin composes herself, clears her throat and wipes under her eyes.

"Well… thank you." Bo leans awkwardly in as if to—to what? Pat her on the head, shake her hand?—and then thinks better of it and pulls her into an awkward one-armed hug. Tamsin closes her eyes, new memories flooding her this time: "_That's what love feels like_." She breathes, leans into Bo's shoulder as Bo wraps both of her arms around her back, feels the smoothness where her wings used to be, could be, will be again. Her touches are so warm. They send tranquility rippling through Tamsin's body from each contact point, each fingertip pressed into her shoulders. "Forget about it, okay? You don't have to worry," Bo says as she rises and heads to the stairs.

But forget is the last thing Tamsin would ever want to do. Forget, she cannot; forget, she will never. All she is now is a network of memories, winding streams waiting to be sorted out. She sees Bo's eyes flash blue in her mind. _Bo_. She has a lot of catching up to do.


	2. Chapter 2

"Won't you at least talk to her?"

Kenzi's voice comes muffled from downstairs. They think Tamsin is asleep, but she heard the door creak open and tip-toed over to press herself against the wall near the stairs and listen. Eavesdropping on Bo's private conversations feels a little wrong—that's definitely new Tamsin talking, old Tamsin insists with a wrinkle of her nose—but she can't resist this one. It is about her, after all.

Almost immediately after she got her memories back, she knew that Bo was avoiding her even more vigilantly than before. She can't blame her. It's awkward and she knows it. Reconciling her new relationships with the girls with her old memories of them hasn't been easy for her, either, and she doesn't know what to say to either one of them half the time. It's been hardest on Kenzi, she thinks. Every time she sees her, it seems like Kenzi's resisting the urge to run to her and grab her and mess up her hair and treat her like a teenager. Tamsin's glad she doesn't, of course—that'd be weird as hell—but she can see traces of hurt in her eyes when she holds herself back and talks to her like an adult. Almost like a stranger.

Whatever misgivings Kenzi has, Bo has tenfold. She looks Tamsin in the face for the briefest of moments and then stares down and excuses herself to the next room. Their conversations never reach beyond an awkward "Hey." It's driving Tamsin crazy. She wants to take her by the shoulders and shake her and scream in her face. How can she not react after everything that's happened? How does she have nothing to say? How can she be so stiff and composed? Tamsin would rather fight with Bo than ignore her. Her own vitriol surprises her sometimes. Control isn't such an easy thing to master; all these feelings bubble up every time Bo gives her a forced smile and a wave and then turns away, and all she knows is that they're intense and angry and frustrated and full of wanting and restlessness and there's nothing she can do about them. She has nowhere to put them and no one to take them out on. Shit, even Dyson never comes around anymore. Not in front of her, anyway.

"I don't even know what to say, Kenz." Bo is sighing and dropping something on the counter. Grocery bags, maybe. Weapons? Beside the point. Tamsin takes shallow, silent breaths and strains her eyes trying to see something out of their corners.

"It's just so effing _weird_ around here these days, you know?" Kenzi lowers her voice to a near-whisper and Tamsin is just able to make out her saying, "I think it hurts her feelings that you… you know."

Another big sigh and then, "It's just… complicated, you know?"

"I know, but she's still Tam-Tam. Lil' T is still in there somewhere. I just…" Rapid footsteps. Kenzi's getting worked up; Tamsin bites her lip and stretches her neck to catch a glimpse of black boot toes peeking out from behind the door molding. "Ugh, I hate all this _tension_! I just want our nice little roommate-family back."

"I know what you mean. It's just that kind of a lot of stuff went on between us right before she was reborn and all. We'll talk more about it later. For now, I am so exhausted. I'm gonna go take a bath."

"Mmkay, Bo-bo. You know where I'll be." Plastic crinkling. Tamsin stifles a chuckle. Kenzi's getting into the groceries. Then she thinks about the food smell soon to waft upstairs and makes a face. She definitely doesn't feel like eating.

Footsteps on the stairs jolt her off her train of thought. _Shit_. Can she make a mad dash for her bed without Bo seeing or hearing her? Well, she's got to try. She bolts into Kenzi's room, flops onto her mattress and snatches a magazine, trying to look nonchalant as she flips to a random page and pretends to read. Her heart flops in her chest like a desperate fish on dry land. Are her hands shaking?

Bo must have heard something, because she pauses when she gets upstairs, a long, tense silence, and then goes straight for Kenzi's room. She sticks her head in the door, looks down at Tamsin. She frowns, then half-opens her mouth, then shuts it again, then just says "Hey," as usual.

Tamsin looks up from _Vogue_—just that probably looks suspicious, _ugh_, but it was at the top of the nightstand's meager stack of available reading materials—and raises an eyebrow that communicates a mildly perturbed "_What_?"

"Hey, succulette."

Bo rolls her eyes, half-smiles, and walks away looking exasperated. Tamsin's heart is about to fling itself out of her chest at any given moment, she's sure. It seizes up at the vibrations of her voice hanging in the air. Tamsin's memories flow and intermingle. She can hardly look at Bo without hearing her: "_You are more alive than anyone I've ever met._" "_In fact, I thought you were incredible_." She snorts to herself. It sure doesn't seem like it now.

The bathroom lock clicks, the faucet squeaks and water rushes into the tub. Another wave of memories washes over Tamsin. Perfect Bo. Bo lying in a bathtub, irritated and covered in bubbles, still somehow as perfect as ever. It makes her sick. She throws her magazine in the middle of the floor and rolls over.

She really doesn't know how much longer she can stand to be here. After a few minutes' reflection, she grabs a notepad and a pen. She scrawls out a note to Kenzi. She stuffs it in her pocket. At the right time, she'll use it. She makes herself that promise.

Kenzi would miss her. New-Tamsin guilt pricks at her about that, but she pushes it down, buries her face in her pillow. It's not worth all of _this_. Kenzi is right; the tension in the house is palpable. It really probably would be better for everyone if she weren't even here. Besides, she belongs with the dark fae. Maybe she should just go back to her friends there.

She mulls it over. She still remembers the day she became dark. It was a Mesmer she'd defeated. She cast doubt on him and he had no hope of controlling her. She put a stake through his heart like it was nothing. It cut through him like butter. Vex wasn't born yet, but she was sure he'd heard about it from his ancestors. Small wonder they weren't exactly best pals. Come to think of it, she's never been great at establishing particularly close relationships with anyone, even the fae in her own clan. There's no point in getting attached. They all die eventually anyway.

The water gurgles in the drain and the bathroom door opens. Bo rustles around, pulling her nightgown on, going about her usual nightly routine. What Tamsin doesn't expect to hear are Bo's bare feet thumping on the hardwood floor louder and louder near Kenzi's door again, however. Bo once again peeks in and Tamsin's heart speeds up at the sight of her face, the stray water droplets still clinging to her neck and collarbones.

"Did Kenzi bring my hair dryer in here?" Bo asks.

_Oh. That's all she wants_. "Uh, yeah." Tamsin flips a hand toward the dresser. "I think it's over there."

"Thanks."

"Mm-hmm."

Bo walks in, notices the magazine, frowns down at it and then steps over it. "Not a Vogue fan?" There is some attempt at lightness in her voice, and Tamsin does appreciate it.

"Got sick of looking at that unattainable standard of perfection. Those bodies and all. Know what I mean?"

Bo glances at her, then resumes her rummaging in Kenzi's dresser drawers. "No, not really. I don't buy much into that stuff. And I like my body how it is."

"Oh, to be so confident," Tamsin says, her voice laced with sarcasm. Bo frowns and opens her mouth to argue, but seems to think better of it—she lets the remark slide and finally pulls her hair dryer out of a middle drawer. The cord is tangled in all of Kenzi's shit, and it takes her a minute to get it loose and gathered into her hand. Her slender fingers work expertly on the knots. All of her lines are so clean and elegant—she really is the epitome of what a succubus should be.

She takes the liberated hair dryer and turns to leave. She's almost to the door when Tamsin says, "Bo?" doing her best to sound soft and unassuming. Bo turns, squinting ever so slightly in surprised confusion. Those brown eyes are sharp, expressive, focused. They bore into Tamsin's thoughts, divide and destroy them. Bo waits. Tamsin clears her throat and shakes her head. "Never mind."

"Whatever it is, you can say it," Bo says, her shoulders loosening. Her whole demeanor seems to soften. It's amazing that she's making an effort at all. Of course she's defensive by default. Tamsin was never particularly nice to her, tried to kill her, got her marked and captured, and that's barely the half of it. Tamsin frowns thinking of all the secrets she sometimes does wish she could share, even if it would do nothing but spread the stress around. Sometimes she thinks it would make her feel better to talk about her allegiances, the vows her past self took, the things she's done in the name of The Wanderer…

But she can't. Her throat closes up around her and all she can do is shake her head again. The words come to her—_I'm in trouble_—but she keeps them locked inside. A valkyrie is a warrior. She fights her own battles.

"Suit yourself," Bo says with a shrug and walks away. Tamsin wants to make her understand, but is it even worth it to try? She fingers the note in her pocket.

"I think I should go," she says in Bo's wake and closes her eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

Tamsin surveys her options. She has a knife and a gun she stole from Kenzi and Bo, which would probably be easiest and least taxing, but she'll get in trouble with the dark fae if she makes a mess. Maybe it'd be best to just use her powers, but not too much. She doesn't want to tire herself out.

She turns back to the man cowering in the corner of the lowest level of the parking garage. He shakes like a scared dog. There's practically a tail between his legs. Tamsin puts her knife back in her belt and stoops down to his level, willing her eyes into blackness.

"Hey," she says, "look, I don't need to hurt you. I just don't think you should be driving a truck around. You're not a good enough driver to be out on the road."

The man turns, stiff, his eyes wide and his hair plastered to his sweaty forehead. He stares at her, his mouth still open in shock but his shaking subsiding a little. He doesn't say anything, but Tamsin swears she sees him give a quick, jerky nod. Good. She's getting her edge back. Maybe it's doing her good to be out from under the dream team's protective sugar-and-rainbow wings.

"Yeah, that's right," she says, coaxing him into his doubt. Pressure in her temples throbs. Her eyes are deep, shadowy hollows. "You'll definitely hurt yourself driving that thing around. You want to just give it to me, don't you? You don't need that truck. You want it to be mine."

He slumps against the wall, nodding continuously now. "Yes," he says, halfway between a whisper and a gurgle. His eyes close and he sucks in a deep breath. Relief fades the lines in his face. "Yes, take it." His clammy hands push the keys eagerly into Tamsin's. "Please." He smiles now, a dumb, simpering smile. Tamsin smiles back and winks.

"Thanks, buddy. There's a bus in about ten minutes. You're better off just doing that." He nods again and waves. Tamsin lets her eyes fade back to their normal state and hops into the truck. It's blue like her old one. She found the site of her wreck a couple of months ago and the damned thing was totaled, absolutely no hope of repair, and, let's be real, she doesn't have cash to just drop on another one. It feels good to be back behind a wheel again now.

She can go anywhere. Dark fae headquarters? She doesn't really feel like facing them at the moment, especially since from what she remembers about her last life, the Morrigan is none too happy with her. The few actual friends she did have are dead now—she pushes memories of Acacia out of her head—and she's sort of out of a job. She thinks about her _last_ job and fidgets. The price for reneging was sure to be high. The image of the Wanderer standing in the middle of the road and speeding toward him before the crash runs through her mind. Again the grave realization of her predicament settles heavily on her. If she's smart, really, she'll leave entirely, get out of town, get away. It's the only way to protect herself, but what about Bo?

No, she thinks as she pulls out of the parking garage. Bo is an incredibly powerful fighter, and staying away from her might be the best protection she can offer. If _they_ find her, they would probably find Bo, too. They could go after her or worse. She needs to leave, for herself, for Bo, for everyone. Even if it weren't for the whole "doomed for life" situation, it's still not easy watching Bo and Dyson make googly lovey eyes at each other all day or being met with silence and awkwardness whenever she walks into a room. She hates all of it. Screw them all.

Affirmed in her decision, she gets on the interstate and drives. Straight through the night, she travels, until she's too tired to go on. She pulls off at the next exit and rents a room in a crappy little motel next door to a bar. At least there's liquor—she knocks down some liquor, then buys a few beers and takes them back to her room, falls asleep drunk and alone.

She doesn't wake up alone.

First thing in the morning, someone kicks her door in. She jumps and reflexively snaps into her valkyrie state upon waking—her assailant sinks to his knees with a loud groan and a snarl. She stares down at him, confused; she hadn't even done anything, or hadn't meant to, at least.

"Tamsin, stop!" Her confusion intensifies. It's Bo's voice she hears. What is she doing here? How did she find her? "Tamsin, you're hurting him! It's us! Stop!"

Tamsin sinks back against the headboard and closes her eyes, vigorously shakes her head as if it'll rid her of her valkyrie face faster than willing it gone. "What?" she says. "I…"

Dyson stands up, his wolf eyes fading back to normal with a last reflexive snarl. "We tried knocking on the door," he says, his voice sharp and annoyed. "We got worried because you didn't wake up or say anything, but now I see why." He kicks at an empty beer bottle, one off the edge of a sizeable pile. Did she drink that much last night? Oops.

Tamsin looks at the two, standing there next to each other, their stances defensive and their eyes hard, and she starts to get angry. "What are you doing here?" She doesn't ask—she demands, throwing her covers off and sliding over to the edge of the bed, snatching clothes out of the back she'd packed and taken with her. "I left for a reason. I didn't want you to come find me, you know." She turns to Bo, her back stiff and haughty, and adds, "I can take care of myself, thanks."

"It freaked us out the way you just ran off," Bo says, an accusing note in her tone. "Kenzi was beside herself, so we got Dyson to track you down. What are _you_ doing here?"

Tamsin shoulders past her to get to the bathroom. Bo glares at being shoved out of the way, but crosses her arms and waits. "What?" Tamsin snaps. "I left a note. What else do you want from me?"

"I don't know, an explanation?"

Tamsin points her toothbrush at Bo like a weapon. "I don't owe you any explanations. In five minutes I'll be getting my ass out of here and so should you."

"You don't 'owe me' any explanations?" Bo takes a slow, purposeful step toward her, almost menacing. Tamsin frowns at her, her nose wrinkled and her lips slightly parted in disbelief. This bitch seriously thinks she's going to threaten her after all the shit she's taken and will continue to take for saving her pretty ass?

"Hell no." She squirts some toothpaste on her toothbrush. "And you don't need any. You don't need shit from me." Between brushes, she says, "In fact, what you need is to stay the hell away."

"Hey," Dyson says, his eyes shifting toward an aggressive yellow again. "Don't you talk to her like that."

Tamsin spits her toothpaste foam out and sneers. "Down, boy." She turns back to Bo and says, "You need to put a muzzle on that thing."

Bo sighs and gives Dyson a pleading look. "Can you give us a minute? We'll be at the car in just a few, okay?"

"'We'"—Tamsin waves her toothbrush between Bo and herself for emphasis—"are not going anywhere." Dyson looks between the two, mutters something under his breath, shakes his head and strides out of the room.

"Tamsin—what are you—"

Tamsin is in the middle of taking off her clothes. "Getting dressed; what does it look like? I don't care if you stand there or not. I'm leaving in three minutes, in my truck, without either one of you." She notices Bo looking her over out of the corner of her eye and smirks. _Now_ Bo pays her some attention. She's allowed to feel smug about it, however temporarily.

Bo rubs her temples, looking flustered. "Why can't we just talk about this?"

"Nothing to talk about, succulette." Tamsin pulls clean a shirt over her head and works on throwing her hair into a ponytail.

"Where are you going?"

"Don't know, don't care."

"Will the dark even let you do that?"

Tamsin scoffs. The dark fae, Evony—like they'll be any use against the oldest magic in the known world. She wheels around to face Bo. "How's Lauren?" she asks pointedly. Bo's face twists in something between offense and fury.

"Don't change the subject."

"You and Dyson seem pretty friendly these days too."

"What does that even have to do with—"

Tamsin shoves her brushes and clothes into her bag, beats then down and jerks the zippers closed. She walks to the bathroom door, but Bo is standing there blocking it. Tamsin leans in close and lingers for a few moments, looking Bo in the eye before bending around to say in her ear, "You have your life and I have mine and some things are none of anyone else's business, right?"

"Tamsin," Bo whispers, reaching out to rest her hand on her cheek. She trails it down to her neck, chi pulsing through her fingers and into Tamsin's skin. That familiar warmth spreads out in ripples from each contact point, but Tamsin doesn't give in to it. She draws on her powers, repels the warmth and blocks it out. Bo will not seduce her into going along with anything.

"Oh, honey," Tamsin says, giving her a sad, condescending smile. "You should know by now that that won't work on me." She smiles and wrinkles her nose, adds a short "'Kay, thanks," and shoves past her again. She flops down on the edge of the bed and starts pulling socks on while Bo looks on and sighs.

"What about all that stuff you said?" she says, sounding tired—this must be her last-ditch effort, whatever she's talking about.

"I shouldn't even dignify any of this with a response, really, but fine, I'll bite since I'm about to leave anyway—what stuff?"

"In the bathtub, or the compound." Tamsin freezes.

_Yes you are. To me you are._

_You're not like anyone I've ever met… in _any_ of my many lifetimes_.

"What about it?" she asks, nonchalant, tugging her second sock on.

"I just feel like if any of that meant anything to you, you'd stay."

Tamsin looks up at Bo. She looks exasperated, maybe even a little sad—defeated, slumping, her arms hanging by her sides. There's that little twinge of guilt again. She hates feeling so guilty. After a long pause, she pulls on one boot, then the other, then stands up in front of Bo with her bag on her shoulder. She opens her mouth to speak but breaks off in a sigh before starting again.

"Look, I know this isn't going to make any sense to you, but I meant all of it, and that's why I have to leave, okay?"

"You're right," Bo says. "That doesn't make any sense."

Tamsin hurls her bag down on the bed and makes a frustrated growling noise, prompting Bo to try to touch her, to comfort her, to do something, but she jerks away. "Don't you remember when I said we'd both be cursed by what I did when I helped you at the compound? Did that just conveniently"—she taps Bo on the top of her head, hard—"slip your mind? I am in deep shit. _We_ are in deep shit, really, and things will only get worse for you as long as I'm around. I can't say any more than that, so just let me leave and let it go."

Bo frowns. _Un-freaking-believable_. Maybe she actually did forget.

Neither one of them has time to think about it. When Tamsin goes to move around Bo and head for the door, she sees a dark, shadowy figure standing in the hallway.

"Oh, no," she whispers, her breaths coming faster. She hates being afraid, wishes she weren't afraid of anything, but she can't control the unbridled terror seizing her now. That's one of _his_ minions. He's coming for her.

Bo turns around to see what has her so freaked out, and her eyes widen. "What is that thing?" So she can see it too. Tamsin is choking on her own breaths. She should have been on the run this whole time. She's screwed everything up and nothing has changed. Bo is still going to die and it'll be her fault.

"I can't…" She backs toward the window, holding on to Bo's arm to pull her along. Maybe if they run, they can break it and jump out and be on the move before the shadow can catch them.

But then Bo opens her mouth to steal its chi from a distance. Tamsin's heart leaps into her throat. She's going to get them both killed.

"Bo, _NO!_"

But it's too late. The creature jumps toward them in retaliation and sinks into their bodies just as Tamsin slams into Bo to shove her out of the way. The motel room disappears in a flash of blinding light, and then everything is dark.

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**A/N: MUAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAA**

**also thank you to the lovelies leaving nice reviews :') **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Apologies in advance, this one is kind of short and not much really "happens"/is revealed but that definitely changes in the next chapter which I am already working on because I'm on a valkubus roll and being bad and ignoring my other fics lolol. Thank you all again for the nice comments, and sorry I can't reply to guest reviews ahhh! but someone asked if I thought there'd be valkubus in ep8 and all I can say is UM THERE BETTER BE**

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The floor rumbles and vibrates under Tamsin's feet. _Fuck_. She doesn't even need to be able to see to know where she is; it's one of those stupid death trains. She hates them. They make her feel like a dog being dragged somewhere by its collar, no agency, no choice. On top of that, they always give her motion sickness even after the elementals "purify" her when they drag her on board. This hasn't happened in… ages. She pats her belt. Weapons gone too, of course.

Bo. She remembers—Bo was with her. Where is she? It's pitch black and she doesn't hear anything. Panic starts to rise in her chest.

"Bo? Goddamnit, succubus!" She shuffles around the room, cautiously, trying not to trip over anything and desperately hoping she doesn't trip over anything unpleasant. Like Bo's bound, paralyzed, and/or dead body. That would really, really put a damper on this little reunion.

When she doesn't get an answer, she screams Bo's name at the top of her lungs. She waits a few moments, then screams again, then listens, trying to see if she gets a response from one of the next rooms over. Those fucking shadow elementals could have put her anywhere.

"Tamsin?"

Bo's voice rises from the floor, weak, but there. In the same room, at that. _Thank the gods, she's alive_. Tamsin nearly trips over herself following the sound.

"Bo! Where are you?"

Bo coughs. "Over here. I think I'm in a corner."

Tamsin crosses the room, wobbly because of the train's motion and speed. She nearly falls over and curses loudly—this is the absolute last place she would ever want to be, especially so soon after getting her memories back. She hates that Bo got dragged here, too, but secretly she's glad to have the company. She collapses against Bo's wall and slides down it when she reaches it.

Bo reaches out to touch her. "Tamsin?"

"I'm right here," Tamsin says, demonstratively patting Bo's thigh.

"We're on the train, aren't we?" Bo's voice is saturated with dread to the point to where she sounds like she's going to be sick. Poor thing—Tamsin can only imagine how scary and awful these damned trains are when you're not used to them. She can't remember a time when she hadn't been forced to ride one at least occasionally, herself.

"Again? You've been on one of these things before?" Well, that's new information.

"Yeah." Bo is trying to steady her breathing, but not doing that great of a job. "I jumped off and Dyson came to rescue me. I guess I got picked up because I was marked by…" She trails off. Tamsin glares into the darkness, kicks at the carpet.

"By my rune glass potion," she finishes for her. A long silence falls on them. Tamsin doesn't know what to say. She knows she's already apologized, but "sorry" isn't really good enough. She guesses she did make up for it by sacrificing her safety and her future to protect her, but still. "I'm sorry," she says again for good measure.

"I know you are," Bo says, grabbing her arm and holding on to it. The contact is comforting. Tamsin edges closer to her.

"Wait a second," Tamsin says. "Did you say you jumped off one of these trains?"

Bo chuckles. "Hmph. Yeah. I didn't know where it was going, but I figured it wasn't anywhere good."

"You were right. Still, I can't believe you're alive, honestly. You got lucky; if you had jumped off in the void between dimensions, you'd've been squashed flat and torn to pieces and poofed into nothing, all at once."

"Sounds like my kind of party," Bo says sarcastically. Tamsin barks out half a laugh. She tries not to sound completely miserable, but she can only do so much.

"So…" Bo starts again, shifting next to Tamsin, the fabric of her clothes making rustling noises in the dark, "I know you don't owe me an explanation, but I would really appreciate it if you could clue me in just a little bit on what's going on."

Tamsin groans. She really doesn't want to tell Bo exactly how stupid she's been, and she really doesn't want to scare her with whose train this is and what will probably happen once it reaches its station. At the same time, it's not in her nature to sugarcoat anything, so she's feeling rather conflicted about this particular request.

"Well… ugh, this is actually really hard to say. So that rune glass potion… As I assume you know by all your badgering over the past few weeks, I was hired by someone to bring you to him. Someone very powerful, the kind where you really don't want to be on his bad side, you know. That shadow thing was under his command, and this is one of his trains. He wants to punish me for going back on our deal." She leaves out the other, even more complicated half, the Wanderer half, but she's trying.

"And me?"

Tamsin's heart skips a beat. She decides to play dumb and shrugs against Bo's shoulder. "I don't know. Probably nothing good."

"Thanks, I'd figured _that_ much out."

"Hey." Tamsin shoves her. "Don't get sarcastic with me. I'm trying to help. I threw away my life for you, so I don't want any attitude, capiche?"

Another long silence. Bo sure formulates her responses a lot more carefully than Tamsin does. When Tamsin spends that much time thinking of what she's about to say, she's probably concocting an elaborate lie.

"I'm sorry, too," Bo says. "I didn't realize what a big deal it was. I feel like I should be more… grateful, or something."

Tamsin shrugs again. "I mean, I brought it on myself. I did agree to get you for him in the first place. The pay was great and it was…" She sighs and draws her knees up to her chest. "…before I got to know you, I guess." They hit a bump on the tracks and Tamsin cringes at the jolt. Fucking uncomfortable trains and their hard floors. Usually she would at least get a bedroom with some lights, but apparently this is part of the punishment.

"What were they going to pay you?"

Tamsin turns toward Bo and offers a weak smile even though she can't see it. "You really wanna know?"

"I asked, didn't I?"

"Immortality."

"Shit," Bo mumbles.

"Yeah." Tamsin shakes her head. She wishes the regeneration cycle would go on forever. Her life may suck a lot of the time, but it's her life—lives—and she would do anything to keep them. She didn't realize just how important living was to her until she started getting to the end of her life, her composite life stretching across the centuries. She's "old" with a young mind in a young body. She's not tired. She's not ready to die.

"Tamsin," Bo says, squeezing her arm, "I won't let you throw your life away. You know that. I won't let them do anything to you."

Tamsin smiles again, appreciating the gesture but thinking that it's impossible for Bo to know just how futile her efforts would be. "Bitch, please," she says, putting up a confident front. "I'm in my last life cycle. I'm so much more badass than you it's not even funny."

Bo scoffs, then laughs a little. Good. At least one of them can feel a little better. "I guess I should be glad to have you on my side, then."

"I am on your side," she says, quiet, admitting it as much to herself as to Bo. She's in deep now. Even if she were to try to get back on track and voluntarily hand Bo over, she's defied too many people in power now. They will never let her go. The Morrigan, the gods—punishment for her choice is inevitable. Sometimes she feels like she regrets it, but then she feels Bo next to her, smells her perfume, hears her breathing in the dark.

"Do you think there's a way out of this thing?"

"I don't know," Tamsin says, musing. "I don't see any windows. There's only one door and it's super-locked. I don't think there's any way to break the walls even if we did want to jump to our deaths. And as for what happens when we get to the station… well, let's just leave it at 'I don't know.'"

"I'm scared," Bo admits, her voice flat, neutral, as if she'd been simply stating that the sky is blue and the Earth revolves around the Sun. Tamsin reaches across her, hesitant and awkward at first, to hug her. She's hit her, kissed her, held a blade to her neck, taken a bullet for her, but she has never really hugged Bo. Even Bo seems surprised at first, but she seems to take solace in the physical closeness and leans in to rest her head on Tamsin's shoulder.

"I wish _I_ had a drink."

"Hmph." She can imagine Bo side-eyeing her from her tone. "Me too. You're way more honest when you're drunk." Tamsin looks away, though it doesn't make a difference in the blackness. She's glad Bo can't see the awkward, fear-stricken look on her face. She did kind of word-vomit all of her _feelings_ at Bo the last time she was drunk in the same room with her. "Can I ask you something?"

Tamsin shifts uncomfortably, still remembering that embarrassing little incident. "Depends on what it is."

"I just…" Bo sits up and Tamsin can feel her eyes on her even though she can't see her face. It makes her even more uncomfortable to know Bo is staring at her, trying to read her, to break through the walls she has up for protection, for good reason. "I want to know if I'm right about something…" Bo trails her fingertips across Tamsin's collarbones and she stiffens and sucks in a short, involuntary breath. What is she doing? "…about you."

Tamsin swallows hard and says nothing.

"I'm sorry if this isn't the case, or… or if it offends you. I just want to know." _Oh, God. I hope she's not about to ask what I think she's about to ask. _ "It's just," Bo continues, slowly, choosing her words carefully, "recently I've been under the impression that you might kind of—"

The train jerks to a stop so hard and so fast that the girls are jerked forward and back by the inertia. Their heads slam into the wall, hard. Bo hisses an "_Ow_!" and Tamsin a simultaneous "Fucking Christ." She jumps up and clenches her fists, yelling at the ceiling: "Was that really _fucking necessary_?" She doesn't know if anyone will hear her, but it felt good to say.

Bo stumbles to her feet as well and gropes around in the dark for Tamsin. She finds her arm and holds on to it, wobbles a bit from the sudden strange stillness of the floor. Before either of them has a chance to say anything else, the door of the train car flies open.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Okay don't get used to this many updates so close together guys, it will probably never happen again lolol, but I didn't have anything to do today and I REAAAAAALLY felt like writing. Also I worked some actual plot in sort of BUT I'M JUST ADDICTED TO VALKUBUS CONVERSATION DRAMA I CAN'T HELP IT EMOTIONNNNSSSSS SDLSKDJLSDJ (as usual, pls forgive any typos/whatevers I didn't catch)**

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"Welcome, welcome, ladies." A familiar voice blares from a familiar pale, black-haired figure.

Tamsin crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. _Just kill me and get it over with_.

Bo steps forward, glaring, her shoulders rolled forward and chin tilted down. Aggressive. "Who the hell are you?" Oh, Bo. So confident, always charging into everything head first. The girl has cojones, Tamsin has to hand it to her.

"Tamsin hasn't even told you about me yet? My, my, Tamsin"—he turns to her, smiling his sickening, devious smile—"that's not very nice of you, keeping your little friend in the dark." He chuckles at his own joke, glancing at the stopped train.

"Yeah, I think that was you," Tamsin says. Bo tosses her a confused look.

"I, my dear," he continues, "am the proprietor of this little operation." He waves his arm to display a dark, vast train station. A lamp flickers at each stop. Tamsin doesn't bother looking around; she knows the ceiling is miles up and there are no doors except those which lead to tunnels that run for miles. "You might know me as Loki."

Bo turns again to Tamsin, her face both terrified and furious. "As in Loki the god?"

"That's the one," Loki says with a curtsey. "Pleased to make your acquaintance. It's a shame we won't have time to get to know each other better." Ugh, that stupid bastard, always putting on airs, always trying to fuck with people's heads. It's enough that he's going to kill her; he doesn't have to be all cryptic about it.

"Cut the crap, Loki," Tamsin says. He glares daggers at her before turning back to Bo.

"I thought the gods really were just myths," Bo says, a desperate note in her voice. Loki laughs a loud, booming laugh.

"Oh, my, Tamsin, she isn't the brightest bulb in the box, is she? My dear, who do you think the valkyries work for? Did you think you'd been faffing about with just any old ordinary fae?"

Tamsin refuses to meet Bo's gaze, but she can feel her staring at her.

"By the way," Loki says with a grin, "Tamsin, darling, you know I have eyes everywhere. I've much enjoyed the tales of all of your adventures together. And the _drama_! That little thing you did with, oh what was her name—_Lauren_, that's right—and then where she slapped you? Just gold, pure gold. I'll be sad to see it all go, but alas, all good things must come to an end."

"What did you do to Lauren?" There's a new anger in Bo's voice, a hardness that Tamsin isn't used to hearing from her. She slumps, wishing she could just melt into the floor.

"Let's get to the holding cells, shall we?" Loki interjects. "We can talk on the way."

Bo wheels to face him as elementals appear from the shadows. "What do you want with me?"

"You're my sacrifice, dearheart. My greatest sacrifice yet. Tamsin didn't tell you that part either?"

"Sacrifice? What are you—" An elemental reaches out to snap handcuffs onto Bo's wrists, but her eyes snap into their dangerous, glowing blue, and she starts to drain their chi. Tamsin jumps forward, torn between a desire to help, knowledge that there is no way to help, and fear of repercussions from Loki. She doesn't need for him to hate her any more than he already does; at least with the way things are now, her death might be quick and clean. Might be.

"Let's not bother with all that, now," Loki says, holding a hand up toward Bo. Her chi-drain is instantly reversed, and she falls gasping to the dark, damp floor.

"_Bo_!" Tamsin spins around and drops to her knees at her side.

"Can't we proceed like civilized beings, here? Come, come, now," Loki says with a dramatic sigh. The elementals successfully fasten Bo's handcuffs, and slap some on Tamsin just to be safe. The cuffs suppress their powers, as Bo soon figures out struggling against the elemental guards.

The walk to the holding cells is heavy with silence. The elementals throw them into two adjoining cells separated by a wall of bars. Bo crawls to the opposite wall and curls against it, wordless, staring at Tamsin with anger still burning in her dark brown eyes. Tamsin can barely make her expression out from the dim light cast by the flickering dungeon torches, but her imagination does a pretty good job of filling in the dark spots.

"We're not finished yet," she says. "I'm going to ask you again. What did you do to Lauren?"

"Oh, calm your shit down, succubus." So they're back to this point again. Fantastic. "I didn't do anything to your _precious_ girlfriend. I'm sorry, ex-girlfriend. All I did was talk to her. Said something she didn't like. Scout's honor."

"I'm not playing around, Tamsin." Bo's voice drops. She says, low, dangerous, "What did you say?"

Tamsin rolls her eyes. "It was stupid. It wasn't a big deal. I promise. Drop it, okay?"

"No!" Bo lunges at the bars between their cells with her arms still tied behind her back, slams into them with her shoulder and presses her face against them with her teeth bared like an animal. "I will not drop it. You knew! You knew all along what was going to happen and you didn't say anything. And you harassed my girlfriend? I thought trying to have me captured and shipped off was bad enough."

"Look, I didn't want to upset you, okay? Jesus, cut me some slack. Does it look like my situation is any better than yours?" She holds up her hands, also handcuffed behind her back, to show her. The chains clink and drag against the stone floor. "All I did was mention the kiss, the one at Brazenwood. No, I shouldn't have done it. I fucked with her head and she slapped me in the face and everyone was even. Happy?"

Bo pulls her face back from the bars and sits for a few stunned moments. Great. Tamsin had thought she could maybe at least keep a _few_ things secret on her giant list of ways she's screwed things up in Bo's life. "Why would you do that?" Bo asks, nothing left in her voice but pain. Tamsin cringes.

"I don't know. Bragging rights? Lauren, zero; Tamsin, one?"

"I'm not a trophy for you to fight over for _bragging rights_!"

Tamsin drags herself closer to the wall of bars on her knees and sits on her legs a few inches away from it. "Don't you think I know that?"

"Well it sure as hell doesn't sound like it. You know that kiss didn't mean anything. You could feel us being controlled. It wasn't a conscious choice! I can't believe you hammered yet another nail into the coffin of the most important relationship I've ever had in my entire life. Wait. Yes, I can."

Tamsin just sits there and takes it. Past life Tamsin probably would have ripped her a new one, but some of her childish, vulnerable self still cowers inside of her like a parasite, so she lets Bo rant and insult all she wants to. It's not like any of it is going to matter soon anyway. If Loki doesn't kill her, The Wanderer will.

"Yes," she says quietly, staring off at a drip in the corner of her cell, "I did know the kiss didn't mean anything to you, and I'm sorry, okay? Jesus, I feel like I've been apologizing for ages. I told you: I'm sorry. I'm sorry about all of it. I regret everything. What more could you possibly want from me? What do you _want_? It's not like I can make it up to you. In case you hadn't noticed, we're fucked. Done."

"Don't say that. No, we're not. We're going to get out of this." Bo pauses for a long time, thinking, mulling Tamsin's words over. A switch must have gone off in her brain, because her expression changes, softens, and she presses her face back through the bars. "You said the kiss didn't mean anything… to me?"

Tamsin still refuses to meet her gaze. "Yeah, well, obviously."

"So… what did it mean to you?"

"Fuck, I don't know. Do we have to talk about this?"

"Oh my God," Bo says, with her short, disbelieving, triumphant I-was-right laugh she does. "I was right." _Yep, there it is_. She looks almost giddy. Ugh, she's enjoying this way too much. "Tamsin, do you have, like, _feelings_—"

"No," Tamsin snaps, "and if you value your life you will not finish that sentence."

Bo laughs. "What are you going to do? Kill me? What, with no powers and your arms chained behind your back?" That self-satisfied smile is killing Tamsin. She isn't sure if she wants to kiss Bo or strangle her. She's leaning toward strangling her at this point. "You wouldn't do it anyway, not now."

"Try me!" Tamsin sits back to kick at the bars. They clang and tremble against Bo's face.

"It all makes sense now. I'd been wondering; I mean, I thought I could tell, but then I didn't _actually believe_… oh, man."

Tamsin grunts. Now on top of being doomed, she's humiliated. Perfect. Just what she always wanted. This is exactly the way she saw the short rest of her life playing out. "I'm glad this is so amusing for you," she says.

Bo's expression softens immediately. "No, I wasn't trying to make fun," she says, her eyes wide and a little pleading, a little sad. "I just always thought you hated me. And then when it suddenly seemed like you didn't, it was, I don't know, a little weird."

"Oh, I did hate you. Like I said, that was before I got to know you." Bo is looking at her with some sappy little smile. If Bo is _pitying_ her now, it really is all over.

"I'm really glad I met you," Bo says. Tamsin scoffs.

"Look around. This is what you're getting out of it. Still so glad?"

"Yes," she says emphatically. "I meant what I said, too, when I said you were incredible. You're strong—so strong—and funny, witty, loyal. You can be kind when you want to. No matter what, I still think you're one of the good ones."

It's too dark for Bo to see Tamsin blush, fortunately. She averts her eyes, smiles, laughs awkwardly. She doesn't really know how to take a compliment, but then she hasn't had much practice. "Thanks. I guess."

"Hey," Bo says, turning around to sit with her back to the bars and wiggling her hands. "Come here." Tamsin raises an eyebrow but follows suit, turns to sit with her back to Bo's and their hands touching. Bo runs her thumb over Tamsin's knuckles and her stomach does flips. "I wish I could use my chi. It might make you feel better." She continues trailing her fingertips over the back of Tamsin's hand, mimicking the motions she would use to send that blissful warmth coursing through her body.

"Nah," Tamsin says, thoughtful, quiet. "This is good enough." She stares at her far wall, feels Bo's soft hands on her rough ones, and sighs. Her heart spins in circles: guilt, relief, terror, contentment. The only constant is Bo. After a few minutes she jerks on her handcuffs, knowing she isn't strong enough to break out of them—she can't think of anyone who would be—but wanting to try anyway.

Bo grabs her hand and squeezes it. "We're going to get out of this," she repeats. "We just have to come up with a plan."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I am so sorry I took so long to update this, guys. 4x08 happened and I was like "Well, that's it. The show's valkubus is better than my valkubus and there's no point in writing anymore, I guess." And it was beautiful and I was okay with it. (Plus they torpedoed my little storyline with canon Wanderer, and I mean, I knew it wasn't going to be anywhere near the same [since this is just a fun idea I had and not my actual canon-theory], but I usually don't feel comfortable going TOO far off canon which is why I'm always writing one-shots). _ANYWAY_, 4x09 happened and made me so mad I changed my mind and decided to keep writing on this for fun since I need to get my damned valkubus from SOMEWHERE sldjslkdjklsjd even if it's from my own head :(. This is also short but since my muse is back I should add more hopefully relatively soon.**

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Bo takes a deep breath. "Are you sure about this?"

Tamsin isn't, really. She has no clue if it will work or not, but it's the best thing she can come up with given the circumstances. She's less of an idea gal and more of an action-taker; she and Bo have this pitfall in common. It's half a miracle they have any sort of plan at all, when she thinks about it.

"It's all we've got, I guess," she says, shrugging. "Gotta try."

Bo eyes her. "I mean are you sure you're okay _doing_ this?"

Tamsin falters. A million responses come to mind: of course I am. I'd do anything to get you out of here. This is nothing. Don't worry about me. Everything rushes through her head at once, but all she says is "Yeah, I'm good. You need all of your strength and you need to focus, so." There's an awkward pause and she shrugs again. Maybe one day she'll be better at this. Emotions, expressing how she feels and all. Heat creeps into her cheeks.

"Okay," Bo says, holding up a small rock from the floor of her cell. "I think I found one sharp enough. Come here."

Tamsin draws near to the partition, her breaths dragging through the stale air. The silence separating them is thicker than the bars.

"Um…" Bo's brow furrows. She's starting to look nervous. "Where should I…?"

"Somewhere easy to hide," Tamsin says. "Somewhere under my shirt, maybe. My back or my stomach. Here." She pulls her shirt up, shuffling as close as she can. The iron bars are cold; she winces as she leans against them. Everything below her bra is uncomfortably bare. She's sensitized, for some reason. Nervous, maybe. She's dealt with immeasurable pain and she still expects this to hurt. Pitiful.

"Okay." Bo looks at the floor and breathes deeply. Trying to work up the nerve, probably.

"Hey. Remember he needs you alive. Don't hold back, okay? Make it deep, get a lot of blood, play it up."

Bo nods and whispers again, "Okay." Tamsin catches her gaze when she glances up and offers her a small, reassuring smile. Her attempt at reassuring, anyway.

A gasp catches in her throat as Bo cuts in. The rock snags and tears more than a knife would, and the anticipation has her tensing up and making it worse, but she has trouble willing herself into relaxation. That's usually what alcohol is for. She's entirely too sober for this. Blood starts to dribble and streak down her abs.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," Bo says immediately, a frantic note in her voice. Tamsin shakes her head. Time is of the essence; she can't have Bo wasting it on guilt.

"It's okay. Just hurry and get the blood, come on—"

Bo kisses her through the bars, stops her with her mouth. Her soft, perfect, familiar mouth. Oh, how Tamsin has longed for this. She often wishes she'd never kissed her in the first place so she wouldn't remember. She thought she'd be left with only the fading memory of it forever.

She can't get caught up in it. No. This is too important. She stops herself, as hard as it is, pulls back and breaks the kiss. "Bo," she says, trying to keep her voice firm though it trembles on the surface. "Bo, you have to get the blood. Now."

Bo's fingers trail down Tamsin's stomach with the rock still wedged in her palm. She turns her hands and presses her wrists against her skin, now slick and throbbing. She drags her wrists up, collecting blood as she goes and smearing it all over her wrists and forearms. "More," Tamsin encourages. "Cut some more if you have to."

"No," Bo says, and Tamsin hears a tremor in her voice, too. "I think there's enough. It's still bleeding."

Tamsin watches her. Her face is so serious and resolute as she paints herself in Valkyrie blood. It would be almost comical if it weren't so intimate and strange. Bo presses her fingers against Tamsin's stomach, firmly, as if to signal it to stop bleeding, and nods. So she's finished, then. She lingers by the bars, her breaths warm on Tamsin's lips.

Tamsin kisses her one more time because she's there. Because she can. "Go play dead," she says.

Bo collapses in the middle of her cell with the rock jutting out from her fingertips, dark with Tamsin's blood. Her hands, wrists and forearms drip with it. Perfect. Tamsin puts her shirt down and pushes herself back against her cell wall. It all looks very convincing.

She screams. "Guards! Somebody, help! The succubus is trying to kill herself! She slit her wrists!" That gets their attention. There are elementals throwing the door to Bo's cell open in what seems like seconds. One pulls her up while another grabs her arm and makes a face at all the blood. The rock falls from her hand. "You have to stop the bleeding!" Tamsin puts on her best hysterics. Bo was wrong; she _can_ act. If she needs to, anyway.

"He's gonna be mad," one elemental says to another. "Shit."

"We gotta get a bandage on or let her heal or something. Get those cuffs off," another says. Bo still feigns unconsciousness.

It's working. Tamsin watches, her eyes wide—with eagerness, not fear, though _they_ can't tell the difference—as they dig out a key as fast as they can and unfasten the handcuffs. They hit the cell floor with a clink.

It's Bo's alarm bell. Instantly, she's up and sucking the chi out of every elemental in the room simultaneously. Tamsin scuttles across her cell floor and throws herself at her door. "Yes!" The elementals slump and fall, lifeless, useless. Bo snatches up the keys.

"Give me a second," she says as she fumbles with the lock on Tamsin's cell, trying all the keys. Tamsin bounces on her knees, trying not to nag her to hurry. She knows Bo is moving as fast as she can, but the urgency does still weigh on her. More little helpers will be here soon. They'll know something is wrong when their brothers don't report back.

The lock clicks and Bo is inside, on her knees next to Tamsin unlocking her handcuffs. They fall off and an enormous weight is lifted from her shoulders. She can feel her powers returning to her, seeping back into her body. It's intoxicating and invigorating.

"Heal," Bo commands her, kissing her hard. She pushes golden chi into Tamsin's body. Tamsin gratefully takes the energy. It sparks and tingles as it moves down her and into her heart and lungs. It tastes almost smoky or metallic, but sweet—addictive. It's a rush and an aphrodisiac, and Tamsin finds herself pushing against Bo harder, her hand curling around the back of her neck, her mouth open and her tongue occupied with Bo's. She sucks on the succubus's lip, pulls her closer and cups her face. She's never given in to her like this before and now she never wants to stop.

It's Bo who finally breaks the kiss. "Shit," she whispers, "we've got to go."

Tamsin snaps out of it. She could have stayed there forever and it scares her. She could have actually stayed there forever and gotten caught and killed, and she'd've been happy doing it. That's the power of a succubus, to turn people against themselves, against everything in their interests, and trick them into going willingly along with it, all for a kiss. For that _feeling_. She's still captivated and a little dazed as Bo pulls her to her feet.

She clings to Bo's hand in the dark as they leave the cell. "Which way?" Bo asks, looking from one side of the hall to the other. Tamsin takes a moment to get her bearings, try to remember the layout of this place—it has been a hundred years or more, but it hasn't changed much. She looks left and notices a dark corridor branching off at the end of the hallway. If she's not mistaken, that's one of numerous paths back to the central connector from the train station to the dungeons and everywhere else. It _has_ to be.

"There," she says, tugging Bo forward.

They run.


End file.
